


Something Just Like This

by winterfirehair



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bill Denbrough Has PTSD, Bill Denbrough-centric, Domestic Fluff, Everyone is Alive Except Georgie Denbrough, F/M, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Polyamorous Losers Club (IT), Post-Canon, Post-Pennywise (IT), Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24187246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfirehair/pseuds/winterfirehair
Summary: Usually being the one to take care of the other Losers, Bill has a hard time letting them take care of him. || Poly Losers Club Fic Exchange Vol. 2
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Ben Hanscom/Eddie Kaspbrak/Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough/Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96
Collections: Poly Losers Club Fic Exchange Vol.2





	Something Just Like This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spn1dneedit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spn1dneedit/gifts).



Bill Denbrough had always been a hard worker.

In school, he did everything needed to get the best notes on his assignments, even if that meant staying up all night studying and phrasing what he had just learnt in a way his teachers would approve of, trying his best to use the perfect combination of his own words and the technical jargon from the books. It meant hanging out at the library more often than not, sometimes with Beverly or Eddie, but most times with either Mike or Stanley, who were the most patient and didn't mind keeping Bill mostly silent company, studying for their own classes or just reading a good novel.

Being the nominated leader of the Losers Club he took his assigned duties more than serious. They were all relying on him. Or at least that was his impression. So, Bill lead them. He lead them on the chase after his missing brother and into the fight with Pennywise. He lead them against their collective bullies - Henry and his gang, Greta and her girls. He lead them against their parents - Beverly's abusive father, Eddie's overbearing mother, Stanley's overly religious parents and Mike's strict grandfather. And he lead them successfully - sure, sometimes they would come out of their fights hurt, or at least emotionally or physically exhausted, but alive and well in the great picture.

The Losers could rely on Bill. He made sure they all knew they mattered, they all knew they had someone to turn to. Their problems, their worries and needs were his first priority. When Mike started thinking about going to public school with them, Bill was the one to support him talking his grandfather into it. He was the first one that Richie dared to tell that he was into both boys and girls, because he knew that Bill would never even think of judging him. Stan came to him when he was struggling with his mental health, knowing that Bill would do everything to make him feel better - either talking him through the worst of his episode, or just holding him for a while, or taking any measures to distract him from his troubled thoughts. Beverly found comfort in him letting her know that is was alright that she was a little bit in love with every single one of them; that it didn't make her a slut or a bad girl and that it was perfectly fine for him in general; that it didn't hurt his feelings, his tiny crush on her, to know that he shared her heart with the other Losers. When Ben came to him, finally fed up with being bullied for his weight even by adults and starting a strict diet and workout program, Bill supported him, cheered him on, but also helped him through the lows of it, when his weight didn't change at all for days, or when he gained some again. And Eddie, dear sweet Eddie who reminded Bill the tiniest bit of his deceased brother - even though he never told Eddie that - when he searched for comfort he did so in Bill who didn't belittle him, who instead made him feel strong like no one else could when everything was becoming too much.

There was nothing Bill wouldn't do for the Losers. They were his family, his found family, closer to him than his parents, maybe as close as Georgie and him had been, on a different kind of level. He loved all of them dearly, and they loved him, their bond with each other not describable in any language. If Bill had to choose any word however, soulmates would probably be to closest to describe them, to describe how they felt about each other. They cared for each other on a higher level than just a normal friendship or romantic relationship.

However, as much as he took care of the Losers, Bill had a hard time when it came to taking care of himself, or letting himself being taken care of. He was their leader; he couldn't afford being down, or getting sick, or struggling with anything, because they needed him and being there for them was far more important to him than his own well-being, both physically and mentally. His struggles and problems were not as important as theirs and no matter how often they would tell him that it was okay if he just let them take care of him for once, he just wouldn't let them.

"Hey, Bill. Are you even listening?"

Bill jerks up when Beverly gently nudges him with her arm. They're in the college library together, talking in soft voices with their respective class materials laid out in front of them. He can feel their questioning glances on him, and shakes his head.

"Yeah. Sorry. I spaced out a little," he apologizes and rubs his left eye. It feels dry, even though it starts watering right away.

"Dude, when was the last time you slept? Did you stay up all night again?"

Richie laughs, and Stan lightly elbows him in the side, but it's only partly a joke. Richie knows just like the rest of them that Bill often pulls all-nighters if he sees the need, working on his assignments or on his short stories and then going to class in the morning with sore eyes and dark circles underneath, holding onto his thermos filled with coffee so tightly one could think his life depends on it.

"I just didn't sleep that well, that's all..."

Bill sighs and shakes his head a little. He's not lying, he didn't sleep well last night. He kept tossing and turning, waking up again and again, and now there's a massive headache starting to build up in the back of his head. Not to mention that his throat is dry and hurting more and more every time he swallows.

"Are you sure you're fine? You look like a ghost," Mike chimes in, clearly worried. Bill hates the sound of it.

"I'm okay guys. Really," he says with a sigh, even though he can see that they don't believe him.

As the Losers already suspected, nothing is okay. Bill feels tired the entire day, and in the early evening he's already in his room, wrapped in a blanket. It's may, and it is pretty warm, but he's freezing. His shorts and T-Shirt were traded for sweatpants and a hoodie the moment he returned to the dorm. He tries sitting down on his writing projects, but his head feels like it's stuffed with cotton wool. He can't think clear, can't concentrate on the words in front of him, so he closes the document with a sigh and rubs his temples. His head is still hurting.

He doesn't want to go to bed now though. He feels like he didn't accomplish anything today and that's a feeling he just can't stand. Being unproductive rubs him in an extremely wrong way. If he can't produce anything for his stories or assignments right now, he can at least catch up on the latest episode of the show he's been watching. It'll take his mind off the fact that he's cold, and feeling miserable in every way.

Bill sits on the couch, trying to find a position that is comfortable enough for him to curl into his blanket, and turns on the TV, wincing when it's initially way too loud for him to tolerate right now. Turning the volume down before starting Netflix he pulls his legs closer to his body to keep himself warm.

He doesn't make it past the ten-minute-mark of the episode. Drained of all energy his eyes fall shut after just a few minutes and he's left sleeping on the couch for the rest of the night.

It's Stan who wakes him late in the morning, gently shaking him out of his fuzzy dreams. Bill groans, his limbs aching, mainly from the position he slept in.

"What's going on?"

Confused and still with a headache he sits, rubbing his eyes groggily.

"You didn't show up to class and weren't answering my messages. I was worried something happend. Did you sleep here all night?"

Stan explains the situation to him with a gentle voice. Bill sniffs a little.

"Yeah I... I guess. Must've fuh-fallen asleep while watching TV..."

He grabs for his phone. The notification lamp is blinking furiously, but the sound is muted. He has about fifty messages from all Losers, most of them from Stan and Mike. There's a sting in his chest - he hates it when he makes them worry about him.

"Suh-Sorry," he says. His voice cracks and he sniffs again, but despite the way it sounds he's not about to cry. His nose is just stuffy, and his throat feels sore. Stan regards him with a worried look.

"You're sick," he simply says. It's not a question, just an observation. Stan's the master of observation - he misses nothing, not even the tiniest thing. Usually, Bill almost envies him for the skill, but right now he hates it. A little pout forms on his lips and he lightly shakes his head.

"I'm fine. I just had to sleep a full night, I'm not sick."

"Bill..." Stan sighs as their leader tries to stand, and shoots forward when he fails.

"You're an idiot," he says without malice as he makes Bill sit down on the couch again, "and you're burning hot. I'm pretty sure you've got a fever."

"I'm fine..." Bill whines like a child, but still he lies down and wraps himself tighter in the blanket. He's still freezing - even more than the day before. Just the sight of Stanley in a T-Shirt makes him shiver.

"You will be fine," Stan corrects him as he dials Eddie's number on his phone. He knows that the younger is not in class right now and he always helps taking care of their sick ones with his medical knowledge.

Bill groans as he listens to Stan talking to Eddie. If Eddie knows what's up the other Losers will follow and he won't leave the bed until "Doctor K." gives his okay. He shoots Stan an annoyed glance, but Stan only sends him an air kiss.

It takes Eddie fifteen minutes to come over. Even before Stan has let him in - he's the only one with a key for Bill's dorm room since there were only two and they weren't allowed to duplicate them - Bill can already hear him making a fuss and sighs.

"Eds I'm fine..." he groans and tries sitting up again.

"Yeah sure Big Bill. You just look like shit."

Bill pouts a little as Eddie sits on the couch next to him and feels his forehead.

"Stan's right, you definitely have a fever."

"Are you both sure I'm not just hot as hell?" 

"Beep Beep Billy," a new voice announces before Eddie can say anything. It's Richie, who's followed by Beverly.

"Mike and Ben are coming over later," Bev informs them, but Eddie frowns.

"Bill needs to rest guys. I don't think -"

"I'm fuh-fucking fine..."

Bill's face flushes from both the fever and frustration. He hates how they make a fuss over him. Even if he might be a little sick, he won't just abandon his friends. He knows that the need to keep them together partially comes from their shared childhood trauma, but he doesn't like to think of that. They rarely talk about it either.

Eddie makes him switch the couch for the bed. Since Bill is barely able to stand less alone walk, Richie carries him - bridal style of course, snickering at Bill's weak protest, highly amused by the way he embarrassedly hides his face against Richie's chest. Lying down in his bed feels better than the couch however, and thankfully he buries himself in the thicker blanket, still shivering. Eddie takes his temperature. It's a light fever, but its midday and it will probably rise up in the evening.

Beverly brings him some tea and he clings onto the cup, warming his fingers on it.

"I got another class in ten. Sorry, Bill. I'll see you later, okay?" 

She kisses his cheek. He wants to tell her that she's going to catch whatever he has too that way, but instead he just nods.

"Suh-See you later Bev."

While Beverly leaves, Bill curls deeper into his blanket and shivers. A soft whine escapes him, because honestly, at this point he can't find a body part that doesn't hurt. Richie, Stan and Eddie share a look.

"I'm gonna go and get some medicine from the pharmacy for him. Can you two keep an eye on him?" Eddie sighs. Bill might be sick, but he doesn't trust him to stay in bed and rest. Most likely he would try to sit at his desk and distract himself by writing, which would only make everything worse.

"Sure thing Dr. K!" Richie salutes, but Stan elbows him in the side while rolling his eyes.

"We're going to take care of him," he assures him, and Eddie nods. Richie may be a clown even after all these years and he's still the main cause for mischief in their group, but while Stan isn't that far behind on that matter, Eddie knows he can trust him to not do anything stupid now, or let Bill do anything stupid.

"I'm trying to be back as fast as I can," he promises, and then he's out the door. Richie flops down on Bill's bed. "So, Big B - how about a little threesome while Doctor K is gone?" He wriggles his eyebrows.

"Don't be gross, Rich."

Stanley makes a face, but Bill can't help but laugh. "I don't think I can muh-move a muscle. Let alone enough muscles to participate in a t-threesome."

"Hey, you might be a sex doll at this point, but at least you're warm," Richie shrugs, and Stan shakes his head in disbelieving amusement.

"I'm gross. My back fuh-feels all sweaty... I'm probably reeking."

Bill tries to sniff, but he can't smell anything at all. His nose is completely stuffed.

"Don't worry. You always stink," Richie says sympathetically. This time they all laugh.

"We could help you shower if you're really feeling that gross. Or maybe you should take a bath. As long as we're with you and keep an eye on you it should be fine," Stan suddenly suggests. Bill thinks about it for a moment. Soaking in hot water for a while doesn't sound that bad if he's got to be honest.

"That would be nice, actually..." he says, "but I really don't need help with that -"

"Yeah, no," Richie cuts him off right away, "you'll probably drown or some shit and I don't need you to pull a Jason Voorhees on us. I love you, Bill, but a drowned corpse is probably to most gross thing ever."

"Richie's right. There's no way we'll let you do it alone. You either let us help you, or you're staying in bed," Stan says seriously. Bill sighs in silent defeat, and Stanley looks pleased as he turns to Richie. "How about you get the bath ready and I'll help Bill out of the bed and undress."

"Sure thing commander Uris!"

Richie leaves for the bathroom, leaving behind an amused Bill and Stan shaking his head.

"Sometimes I'm not sure if I want to kiss him or suffocate him with a pillow," he says dryly.

He turns to Bill and sits down next to him. "Think you can manage to stand straight for a minute so I can help you undress? We can do it while you lie down if you can't."

Bill shakes his head and untangles himself from his blanket. Stubbornly he forces himself to stand, even though he has to at least support himself on the wall with one hand. "It's fine."

"Sure," Stan says, clearly not convinced as he watches Bill, ready to catch him if his legs should stop supporting him. When that doesn't happen, he too stands and lifts the hem of Bill's sweaty hoodie, carefully working him out of it, followed by the tank top underneath. He tries not to wrinkle his nose since that is even worse than the hoodie, the light gray darkened around the collar and underneath the arms by how much Bill has been sweating. He doesn't want him to feel even more gross than he already does.

"I know it's d-duh-disgusting," Bill says in a low voice. He noticed how carefully Stan touched his dirty clothes, but he's not mad. It's one thing to be close and to love each other, but this is gross and he knows it.

"It's fine Bill, really. I wouldn't do it if it wasn't."

He proceeds to pull down Bill's sweatpants and shorts, not even blushing at his boyfriends nakedness. This isn't sexual, this is just him taking care of Bill.

"Let's get you in the bath."

Richie has the bath ready when Stan and Bill enter the steamy bathroom. Furrowing his brows at the amount of steam, Stan sticks a hand into the water and quickly pulls it out again with a hiss.

"Richie! Did you even check the temperature? The water is boiling hot!"

"What? No it isn't! It's perfect," Richie argues back.

"Guys..." Bill tries, but he's quickly interrupted by Stanley.

"Yeah maybe if you're trying to cook him alive!"

"He's freezing! He needs to take a hot bath Stanley, not that medium heat shit you do!"

"Guys!"

Bill clings to the wall, clearly both physically exhausted as well as done with their fighting. They both quickly help to keep him steady.

"Sorry Big Bill," Richie says, a lot calmer than before, and Stan opens his mouth to probably apologize too, but Bill shakes his head.

"Just... Luh-let me check the temperature, alright? It's muh-my bath after all."

He sticks his hand into the water. It's hot, hot enough to redden his skin, but to him it feels pretty nice.

"It's okay," he says and pretends not to see how Richie childishly sticks his tongue out to Stanley. He's accustomed to their banter, he has been for years.

They help him into the tub and he lets out a sigh as the hot water engulfs his body. He feels the heat slowly seep into his muscles and bones and right now, it feels like heaven.

"You moan any louder, your neighbor's gonna think we're filming porn."

Richie sounds amused, but Bill only shrugs.

"Your mom's worse..."

Stanley can't help but snicker at the loud gasp Richie emits at that. "Billiam!"

Bill only shrugs with a slight smirk on his lips and sinks deeper into the water, closing his eyes after a moment. Stan gently grips his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Mhhm. 'm fine. Just relaxing," Bill replies drowsily without opening his eyes.

"Okay. But don't fall asleep, alright?"

"Mhhm."

They leave him to just quietly soaking in the hot water for a while. It's nice to finally see him relax for a change, and Stan and Richie both enjoy the sight. Bill has a hard time relaxing, they all know that. He'll constantly overwork himself with everything and forget to take care of himself in the process, but refuse to let them take care of him either. It's incredibly frustrating, so they savor every moment in which they can finally give back some of the love Bill showers them with all the time.

When Stan notices Bill's breathing getting deeper, he gently shakes him. They can't have Bill falling asleep in the bath.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Want me to wash your hair?"

"Mhhm. ' would be nice," Bill mumbles sleepily. Stan nods - even though Bill still keeps his eyes closed - and cups some water in his hands to get Bill's hair wet with it. It would've been easier if Bill just ducked his head into the water for a moment, but this way he doesn't have to move. When his hair is wet enough, Stan takes his shampoo, puts a little bit on his palms and then gently starts to massage it it. Bill sighs contently. It feels way too good. He almost whines when his boyfriend stops, and Richie has to laugh at his facial expression, while Stan only smiles a little as he takes the detachable shower head to rise the redhead's hair with clear water. He then repeats the process with conditioner, massaging Bill's scalp for a while longer before rinsing his hair, and then puts the shower head away.

"You wanna get out?"

Bill nods, blinking sleepily. He's so tired, now that his body is all relaxed and warm. Richie helps him out of the bathtub and wraps him into the largest towel he was able to find - which wasn't hard since Bill only owns those big-ass towels you can just wrap yourself in like a cocoon - proceeding to dry him off carefully and gently while Stan gets him a new pair of shorts and a pajama from his stuffed wardrobe. Once he's dressed, Richie lifts him up - Bill's not protesting this time - and carries him to bed, tucking him in. Bill's barely able to keep his eyes open anymore.

"Sleep," Stan says softly. "Eddie's going to be back soon and then you can take some medicine, okay?"

"Okay..."

They both sit on the bed until Bill's finally asleep. He looks peaceful like that, even though his cheeks are glowing from fever and his breath is whistling. Richie carefully slides his fingers through the auburn hair, enjoying the softness of it, while Stan watches with a loving expression. Richie notices, and usually he would've made a joke about it, but he keeps his mouth shut this time and instead smiles at him.

Eddie returns about half an hour later, followed by Beverly, Ben and Mike. Richie and Stan quickly shush them so Bill's sleep doesn't get disturbed. He's curled into a little ball, only his flaming hair visible underneath the covers. It's an adorable sight.

"How long has he been asleep?" Eddie quietly inquires, setting down a small bag filled with various medication. Ben and Beverly disappear into the small kitchen with a grocery bag, and Mike sits on the bottom end of the bed. Richie takes a look at his phone. "Not for long. A bit more than half an hour. We helped him take a bath and he pretty much fell asleep directly after."

Eddie doesn't look too pleased. "A bath?"

"He felt gross being all sweaty. And it helped to relax him a little," Stan explains softly.

"We also kept an eye on him the entire time. Don't worry Eds," Richie chimes in, causing Eddie to roll his eyes.

"You two dorks can be grateful he didn't just collapse, you know? Never bathe a feverish person. That's basic knowledge!"

Stan and Richie share a look. Eddie sighs at their rueful expressions.

"I guess it doesn't matter now. He seems to be fine... Just... don't do it again als long as he still got that fever."

"Okay..." the two say in unison. They still seem to feel bad, which is why Eddie's expression softens. "Don't feel bad. I'm sure he appreciated it, even if it wasn't exactly the best idea."

"What was his temperature when you checked?" Mike speaks up.

"100.7."

"Well, that's not that high now..."

"Yeah, but it's still early. He's gonna burn up later," Eddie sighs. He looks at Bill and nibbles at his bottom lip.

"He's going to be okay. Hey, we survived that stupid clown, there's no way a little flu's gonna take Big Bill down now."

Richie smiles and pinches Eddie's cheek. The smaller swats his hand away, but he seems to be a bit more relaxed.

"Yeah... I guess you're right."

When Bill awakes, it's already early evening. Rubbing his eyes and yawning he looks around. There are low voices coming from the kitchen which he quickly identifies as those of the other losers.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

He jumps a little. Since someone dimmed the light in his room, he didn't notice Stan sitting on his bed right away.

"Mhhm. Just still tired."

Stan gently lays his hand on his forehead and Bill sighs contently. The cool touch feels heavenly on his heated skin.

"I think your fever is rising."

His face shows how worried he is about Bill, who sighs and just carefully pulls him closer.

"I'm fine. Stop worrying so much..."

"I'm going to worry about you until the day I die, Bill."

"Duh-Don't say that. That... thing about dying."

"You know what I mean," Stan gently reassures him, pulling Bill in his arms. Their leader lays his head against Stanley's chest and listens to his heartbeat for a moment.

"Don't ever leave me alone," he then suddenly whispers and grabs Stans hand, squeezing it and then softly caressing the scar in Stanley's palm, identical to his own.

"I won't. Never."

Stan gently kisses Bill on the head, whispering the promise into his soft auburn hair again and again.

"I thought I heard you two talk. How's the feeling, Bill?"

"Still tired. But a little better."

Bill gives Beverly a little smile while Stanley plays with his hair, still holding him close. She sits on the edge of the bed, looking at them with a loving expression.

"Are you hungry? You didn't eat a thing today, did you?"

"Not really..."

He makes a face. He probably should eat something, but despite the fact that he hadn't had anything since lunch yesterday he's not hungry at all. Going by how stuffy his nose is he probably won't taste anything either. The thought isn't really that appealing.

"Ben and I did some grocery shopping earlier. How about I make you some noodle soup? I bet it would help you feel better. And after that you could watch some TV if you want? Or you could just go back to sleep, that's up to you.," she proposes to him. Bill thinks about it for a moment.

"I guess it duh-doesn't hurt to try..." he finally gives in. At least his stomach doesn't twist at the idea of eating some soup.

"Okay then. Stay in bed, I'll bring it to you when it's done."

She stands, leaning forward to kiss his forehead first, then Stan's, then returns to the kitchen to start cooking. A few minutes later - in which he didn't do anything but relax, Stanley playing with his hair still - Mike brings him a steaming cup of tea.

"Mind if I check your temperature? Eddie wants to know how high your fever is now. He bought some stuff to bring it down if it gets too high."

Bill lightly shakes his head and props himself up in a sitting position to let Mike check his temperature. When the other boy hums he sends him a questioning look.

"And? Am I guh-gonna die yet?"

"Not yet. It's 101.5 right now. How do you feel?"

"Just tired. My headache is mostly gone but muh-my body hurts again," he answers honestly. Mike hums and puts the thermometer back on the nightstand.

"That's all?"

Bill nods and Mike hums again. "Okay, that's good. Do you need anything right now? Cough drops? Painkillers?"

"Something fuh-for my throat. It hurts."

"Eddie bought some spray I think. Wait," Mike grabs for the bag Eddie brought with him earlier, "Here."

He hands Bill a bottle of Chloraseptic spray with honey lemon flavor. Bill can't help it, he's suddenly reminded of Eddie's inhaler back in the day, the way they all gave it around before the fight with Pennywise. It's like a sudden flashback right before his eyes. His chest tightens and he bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Mike sees how he tenses, and Stanley feels it, both immediately alarmed.

"Bill! Are you okay?!"

Stan grabs his arm, and while Bill flinches at the initial contact, his and Mike's voice slowly ground him again. When he's finally able to breathe again, Mike's kneeling in front of him, and Stan is holding him close, both of them watching him with a worried expression. It's been a while since his last panic attack.

"Breathe, Bill. Slowly," Mike says as calmly as he can manage.

"I'm okay. I'm o-okay, ruh-really," Bill gasps, leaning back against Stan. He's finally capable of using the spray, which soothes his aching throat and somehow helps him breathe.

"What's going on here?"

Attracted by the noise, Richie strolls into the room, but underneath his curious facade Bill can see that he's worried. There's also no more talking in the kitchen. Ben, Beverly and Eddie are no doubt listening.

"Bill had a panic attack," Stan answers honestly, still holding Bill close. The redhead looks down, ashamed. He hates to be in the focus right now.

"Are you okay?"

Richie's expression changes from curious to worried right away as he steps closer.

"I'm fuh-fine. It was just a flu-flashback."

Stan and Richie share a look, then Richie scratches his neck. "Well... dinner's ready."

Bill manages to at least eat a plateful of soup, which is pretty much considering that if he wasn't hungry before, his panic attack didn't exactly increase his hunger. He had to fight off Richie, who wanted to feed him, much to the amusement of Mike and Beverly.

Even though his fever is still high, Eddie allowed him to lay down on the couch to watch some TV with them. He's curled up in a blanket, his head resting in Ben's lap, his legs on Richie's. The others are sitting on the floor, and they're watching a rerun of 'The Bachelor' since it's apparently something Bill can watch without needing to concentrate so much.

Since it's not a weekend, one by one the losers retreat to their own rooms. Eddie makes sure to check Bill's temperature again before he goes - by now it's up to 102.0 - and gives him some medicine, promising to check on him right after his first morning class.

Richie and Beverly are the last ones to go shortly after eleven. Beverly - despite his protest - kisses his cheek softly, wishing him nice dreams. Richie - despite his even bigger protest - kisses him on the lips.

"I never minded your germs, Big Bill. You should know that by now," he grins.

He's left alone with Mike, who eventually took over Ben's spot of having Bill's head in his lap. When the door closes behind Richie and Bev, he looks down and smiles at Bill.

"You want to keep watching? Or are you tired?"

Bill's yawn is enough of an answer. Mike turns off the TV, and then gently lifts Bill from the couch to carry him over to the bed. He's not met with any protest this time, instead Bill is almost whiningly clinging onto him, making him chuckle.

"I'm not going away. Just let me take off these, alright?" He gestures to his jeans and Bill stops whining.

The moment Mike slides under the blanket next to him, the redhead already clings onto him. Mike sighs, he can feel the heat radiating off Bill and his behavior also shows how feverish he is, but while he's worried, he doesn't mind that side of his boyfriend. He's just glad Bill finally lets them take care of him.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: [winterfirehair](https://winterfirehair.tumblr.com)


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